


(hurt)

by watanukitty



Series: Family Business [3]
Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3916588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watanukitty/pseuds/watanukitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maleval Modern AU. Fic prompt: hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(hurt)

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr.

Mallory was not immune to having whims that appear out of nowhere. The most unforgettable one for Diaval was still the skydiving incident. Today, however, it was cooking.

Most people don’t know that while the great and beautiful Mallory Faye Moore of the Moore Group makes running a multimillion business empire look like a piece of cake, she does not, in fact, know how to bake a cake. Or do any sort of cooking for that matter.

And that’s where Diaval Sable, director of the Office of the CEO, secret stockholder, friend, partner (though not of the romantic sort NOR the criminal sort), and all around babysitter comes in.

He didn’t know what to expect when she said that she wanted to try her hand at cooking. For one, he wasn’t a master chef and knew only so well. And two, well, even after years and years together, Mallory still manages to surprise him every once in a while.

And surprise him she did.

Turns out that she had the same level of affinity with cooking the same way he has with alcohol. He makes a mental note to make it known to the the world at large that Mallory Faye Moore, billionaire, socialite, fashionista, philanthropist, should not—under any circumstances—be cooking. Ever.

Still, it was nice to know that she’s not good at everything. He just wishes that she’s also not so good at making his heart stop with her smile or making him miss her when she’s not around or just making him love all of her, really. Diaval shook his head.

“Oh, just say that I’m absolutely horrid at cooking,” Mallory chides, stirring the simmering red sauce that’s becoming more viscous and generally toxic looking by the minute.

“You’re absolutely horrid at cooking,” Diaval obliges, and starts looking around for anything that he might be able to salvage.

“You’re never one to hold back, aren’t you?” she says, giving him a half hearted glare.

“I thought that’s what you like about me?” he pushes, his tone smug. She rolls her eyes at him and he laughs.

“Can you at least cut these up for me?” Diaval asks, sliding a bunch of carrots in her direction. Mallory takes one more look at the sauce and scrunches her nose, deciding, finally that it’s a lost cause.

They work in silence, with Mallory doing what seems to be the only culinary-related task that she won’t mess up and Diaval mixing various spices and condiments for a marinade. He was just about to grab the pack of chicken breast from the fridge when he heard a gasp and the clang of the knife dropping.

“What happened?” he asks, walking over to Mallory and seeing her grasping her left hand. She had a small cut on her pointer finger, and it was starting to ooze blood.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles, “the knife just slipped.”

She was about to move to get a towel when Diaval grabbed her hand before he thought better of it. “Let me,” he tells her, and proceeds to pull her hand to his face to close his mouth around the wound. Mallory’s shoulder stiffened but she didn’t protest, and instead noticed that the pain seemed to have lessened the moment his lips touched her skin.

Diaval let go after a few seconds, his mind now only catching up to his actions. “It always works…gets the bleeding to stop,” he explains sheepishly, mentally berating himself for touching her like that all of a sudden.

“Thank you,” she whispers, taking her hand back and holding it against her chest. They stay silent for a few moments before Aurora came running in, giving them both fierce hugs and talking endlessly about her day.

“What’s that?” the eleven year old suddenly asks, taking the wooden spoon from the table and dipping it into the red sauce. She already ingested a mouthful before the two adults noticed, and have started gagging by the time they got to her.

The night ended with Aurora having a mild stomachache and Mallory hating herself for causing it to her little beastie. It wasn’t so bad, and they still had a decent dinner, all things considered. Not what Diaval expected, certainly, but he really didn’t mind all that much.

What he also didn’t expect, as he lay on his bed that night, was the lingering taste of Mallory’s skin on his lips as he closed his eyes.


End file.
